


Green Gleam

by stuckinafernbush



Category: End Roll (Video Game)
Genre: Flash Fic, Gen, Green Eyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25778056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuckinafernbush/pseuds/stuckinafernbush
Summary: Mireille doesn't think her eyes are even half as lovely as everyone else seems to. Really, she'd say they're no nicer than any other part of her.
Kudos: 14





	Green Gleam

Mireille has pretty eyes. She'd never thought much of them herself, but had heard of their supposed beauty so often. It was the colour, usually, that was commented on - green, little emeralds staring out at the world. Comparing them to such a lovely gemstone seemed like praise far too high for someone like her. She saw no such sparkle in any part of herself, no matter how small. She was decidedly plain, down to her eye colour.

But if not emeralds, then they were green like plants. Like the grass. Like life itself. There was a beauty in nature that Mireille did not see in herself. Her time was often spent inside, but even from the windows she believed nature was so overwhelmingly beautiful that it almost hurt to have any part of her viewed similarly. Green like leaves. It wasn't right.

Green like clovers. That's not quite right either, but maybe if specified it could be a bit closer. Four-leafed clovers were something special. So rare that they were sought after, said to bring luck to those who find them. Mireille had never seen a real four-leafed clover before, though she supposed it could be attributed to the reclusive nature that drove her indoors. Still, whenever she noticed a patch of clovers, she did stop to check. Just in case. Three-leafed clovers were so abundant, though as such a prominent part of nature they were still far above Mireille in beauty. Like Mireille, though, they brought nothing particularly notable. They weren't special or lucky or rare. Four-leafed clovers were almost guaranteed to bring some sort of happiness, while those with only three weren't. In fact, they sometimes brought a sense of exasperation, when the realisation that it's just the same as every other plant around it hits.

Still, she wouldn't call her eyes clovers, regardless of the leaves. She's not sure she would call them anything but a burden. They were just a little reminder of everything she wasn't and would never be. Green is the colour of that which is good, that which is beautiful, and then it's the colour of her view. It makes sense, she thinks, that she would see a green world through such eyes. It only makes sense that she would envy everyone she meets when cursed to see out of those eyes. She has nothing to enjoy, because all she's ever loved has never been hers. 

Her eyes are green, just like her heart. Just like her. Green's beautiful without her, and so abhorrent with.


End file.
